My Name Is Meg: And These Are My One Shots
by Piedgy777
Summary: From the torture of Yule Balls, to being laughed at by first years, watching far too many Muggle films and apparating to remote islands, it seems I'm incapable of even a week of normality. But, hey, that's the way I like it. My name is Meg, and here's a series of madness. Warning! Contains smirks and sneering.
1. Chapter 1

**I've surreptitiously snuck back.**

**A few of you quite liked the idea of a small collection of one-shots about Meg and her cray-cray adventures, and I thought, why the hell not? So here we are!**

**Ha, and you thought you'd got rid of me. **

**Sorry it took so long to get this up as well, I have the motivation of a snail.**

**Also, I have no idea how many of these I'm doing...I guess if you like them I'll keep doing them xD If anyone has any stellar ideas for a one-shot then in the words of Loki 'TEELLL MEEEEEE'**

***cough***

**Wherein I narrowly avoid Easter Island and tell children to stay in school.**

The world disintegrated around me; the ruthless spinning that seized my mind disorientating me in the way it always did. In my stomach, I felt myself pulling away from the house like a string stretching, until it got too far and broke; snapping me to the image I had conjured in my mind's eye; the image I had held so constantly in my head despite its finer details slipping away from me every day. As always, the lurch of queasiness that made my legs shaky hit me and I screwed my eyes shut tighter.

And, as always, I fell face first onto the ground I had apparated onto with an unceremonious crash.

"Ow." I groaned after a few seconds of evaluating that it had, in fact, hurt; pressing my fingers against my forehead, my fringe brushing against them as, slowly, I sat up.

"Every time, Forester?" A far too smug voice asked from above my head.

"I will never understand," I grumbled, as a hand pulled me to my feet, "Why we can't just fly."

"By all means," Draco Malfoy said, his grey eyes glittering with amusement as he brushed the dirt I had collected from my shoulders, disguising his smirk rather poorly, "Feel free to fly back to Wiltshire."

"What?" I grinned, "Want to make a bet that I can't?"

He pulled a face at that. It probably still stung that I had won those galleons from him by betting against his favourite Quidditch team, and winning. I mean, why anyone would support a team who called themselves the Montrose Magpies was beyond me in the first place.

"At least I got the right place this time." I commented, dusting off my arms, "Remember when I took us to Easter Island by accident?"

"Vividly. And I think 'hit' is the right word, Forester."

"Enough with the surnames." I sighed. He smiled at that, and with a tightness in my chest that had come from neither apparition or my less than graceful impact on the ground, I finally turned to the sight my eyes had been craving since I'd last seen it eight months ago.

Hogwarts was still beautiful.

And far more intact that when I had left it.

From where we stood at the entrance to the grounds; the winged boars rising up either side of the wrought iron gates, through the trees spanning up the hill, I could glimpse the Stone Circle; the tall grey stones dwarfed by the covered bridge that crossed the grey stone abyss until it met the castle.

I'd left the school with the Entrance Courtyard shattered; the walls caved in and debris strewn across the paving. The fountain, which my Ravenclaw friends and I had spent so many break times leaning against, or in Antony Goldstein's case, being cornered by girls, had smashed into a thousand pieces; and the turrets that had spanned far above those scenes had stood half caved in; rafters exposed like bones that had stretched up twisted and broken towards the sky.

As to my Entrance Courtyard fountain, I had no clue as to its state. But from here, I could make out the turrets and towers that soared, and now soared intact towards the late morning clouds. To see it again, after a summer of feeling I should really be nowhere but here, caused a constriction of my heart.

"Hey, you're rich." I said to Malfoy as we started to pick our way up the route that would wind its way to the Entrance Courtyard, the late January air brisk as it tugged at my hair,

"Thank you." Malfoy interjected immediately. I had to hand it to him, he was getting quicker.

"Can we buy some of this?" I continued, nodding at the castle as we began to climb the hill, "A turret or two? Do the students a favour and buy out the Divination tower?"

"You want a turret each, Forester?" He seemed to have deliberately ignored my request for first names. Typical. "Are you that sick of me?"

"I'd have gone for Ravenclaw pride, you see." I replied, with a grin, "I'm sure blue would clash horribly with blond."

Malfoy gave a sigh, and didn't respond, instead taking my hand between his fingers as his pace became faster. I still couldn't quite make myself accustomed to this kind of contact, in a good way of course; it was simply the presence of the embraces and touches from a person from whom such things I never would have expected a matter of years ago. Hell, it was certainly the last thing either of us would have wanted. And now, I couldn't remember how I had existed.

The feeling of surreal flooded my senses as we drew closer to the castle. To look up at those towers; the sunlight glinting on the glass windows as it pierced the cloudy sky, made my heart yearn for the school I had known and missed with a fervour that couldn't really be healthy. The fact that Hogwarts was once more the unbroken, soaring structure from my earlier years at the school only increased that longing.

"I can't believe we're following Potter's advice." Malfoy muttered, evidently not quite as captivated by our surroundings as I currently was.

I pulled myself away from looking fondly at the Divination Tower (which no Pygmy Puffs appeared to be falling from) to give him what I hoped was my fiercest expression. Given that Malfoy looked over and took a step away from me, I reckon it was rather effective.

"You said you'd behave," I reminded him, "And I hardly think agreeing to join the list of people acting as guest speakers is a strong move towards friendship."

"This was your idea." Malfoy reminded me.

"Then if you get a Christmas card from Harry next year I am eternally sorry."

Any reply Malfoy would have made was put on hold when we reached the steps to the Entrance Hall; the doors to the castle reaching up above us, and managing to make me feel extraordinarily tiny.

Malfoy's hand left mine to reach out for the door,

"After you, Forester." He whispered in my ear, making my hair tickle the side of my face, and my skin erupt in goosebumps, robbing me of any reply.

He pushed the door open and I took a tentative step forwards, carrying myself into the castle that I had missed with all my heart. I promptly stopped, feeling ridiculously overwhelmed by the sights I wished I still belonged amongst. There was the Grand Staircase, the moving stairs to the second floor just visible as it swung past out of sight. The golden statue of the Architect, that nobody really seemed to know the name of, was to my right; glinting in the sunlight that tumbled out the arched doors to the Great Hall. My breath caught briefly as I looked into the hall, almost expecting to see the horrific sights that had been there on that night in July; when so many people had died defending so much. But glossy tables lined the hall instead of camp beds; torches on the walls now where scattered and broken debris had once collected. And the beautiful window that spanned the length of the end wall was now intact; no broken glass at its feet. I almost lamented that change, because now there was no getting to that ledge where I had stood with Malfoy after that night; watching the sun rise on a new day.

"This feels so strange." I said to Malfoy, a swoop of sentiment washing over me as a ghost materialised from the wall. The Fat Friar recognised me and hastily glided away, muttering about 'rude youths' and 'my death wasn't funny'.

"I know." Malfoy replied, and I caught him looking uneasily around, as if he could see the battle that had waged here as vividly as the surroundings that were now facing him. That I could understand, but for me, I had separated Hogwarts into two worlds; the one that I still yearned for, and the one I would rather forget, that had been more like a bad dream. Despite that odd ray of sunshine that had pierced it.

I took Malfoy by the hand and began to lead him towards the staircases, when a tiny little wizard headed over towards us, his white beard exactly the same as when I had last seen him.

"Are you two here for the lecture?" Professor Flitwick squeaked, unrolling a wad of parchment that seemed to hold the names of seventh years who had left last term.

"No, we're just here to-" I began to say, sarcasm taking over, but Malfoy cut in.

"Yes, we are."

"Spoilsport." I whispered, and got flung a smirk identical to my own.

"It's in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom," Flitwick told us, "I trust you can still remember the way, Meg?"

"Wow." I blinked, confused, "What happened to 'Miss Forester'?"

"You're no longer a student here," Flitwick said happily. Perhaps, I thought suspiciously, a little _too_ happily, "Certain customs are now revoked."

That caused me to be a little beyond words, and Flitwick left us to make our way up to the classroom.

"Well," I told Malfoy as we just made it onto the staircase before it began to move, the familiar grating noise a sound I had missed vastly, "There's no way I'm calling him _Filius_."

Malfoy gave a smile, but I had the feeling he was still a little caught up with the school he had never enjoyed as much as I had. I felt a small pang of guilt that I had dragged him along here; after receiving the owl from Harry, expressing the idea of students from last year to come and join him in a talk about defence against dark magic. I think the memories this place churned up for Malfoy still kept him awake at night. Well, I knew they did.

"We don't have to do this you know," I said for the third time since we'd decided to come, "We can go and steal Bertie Bott's Beans in Honeydukes instead. Or I can apparate us home and see where we end up this time?"

Malfoy turned to give me a surprisingly serious look, his grey eyes steely with a determination that made him look far stronger than the frightened person I'd known this time last year. It was those small things that made me realise how much some things had changed forever.

"I know you want to be here," He said steadily, "And it's not as bad as you think."

I tried to stare him down, but his poker face had grown better recently.

"The minute you want to leave," I told him, as we stepped onto the third floor, heading habitually down the familiar corridor strewn with armour and tapestries, "Just say the word."

"How gallant you are."

We were interrupted by the sudden increase of noise, as, rounding the corridor, we came across a cluster of at least twenty people; all chattering excitedly with the air of people who hadn't seen one another in a long time.

I heard Malfoy give a low groan as he began to recognise the figures waiting outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, and I let him stay in his bubble of irritation as, blowing my fringe to move it from my eyes, I began to look for the two people who promised me they would be here.

It didn't take me long to seek out the dark haired figure, who, expectantly, was looking exceptionally eager for the opportunity of teaching. I gave a shout of happiness, and, grabbing Malfoy's hand, ran over to him,

"Good morning." Terry Boot grinned as I arrived, dragging a slightly less enthusiastic Malfoy behind me. They all tried, but to class the times when Antony and Terry spent time with Malfoy as awkward was probably an understatement. "This is exciting isn't it?"

"Only you could class giving speeches as exciting." I told him, smiling, "Where's Antony?"

"He and Padma went to look round the castle. _Apparently_." Sniggering ensued until I looked across at a group of people by the door.

"Oh look, Draco," I announced, pointing, "It's your three favourite people."

Harry, Ron and Hermione were exactly the same as I remembered them, not that it was easy to forget what Harry Potter looked like when his picture was splashed across the paper as frequently as it was. Especially now, when the intrigue and interest that always surrounded him had done nothing but grow, there was a strange appeal to the slight, dark haired figure; as if the crowd were unconsciously orbiting around him.

"Thank you for that, Forester."

Although Harry was never going to be Draco's favourite person; it wasn't utter loathing he was regarding him with now. After all; after May, Harry had played a significant part in protecting Malfoy and his family from the fate of the other Death Eaters; Azkaban, something that I was eternally grateful to him for. Perhaps he had seen, as I had, that like most of us in that war, they were the victims of what had gone on around them.

"Who is the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher now, anyway?" I now asked, moving on and peering towards the door to the classroom, as if that would supply my answer.

"A wizard named Morrigan Erasmus." Terry answered immediately, "Can't be any worse than last year's teacher, that's for sure."

"I wonder how he'll compare to Snape." I mused in a quiet voice.

Despite Snape's presence in one year of Defence Against the Dark Arts and even longer in miserable Potions lessons- which, I mentally added, glancing at Draco now, really hadn't been _that_ miserable- I had had to re-evaluate my view of Professor Snape. Harry had written an article in the Daily Prophet, who I had noticed, seemed very keen to appease him, which almost made up for their utter uselessness last year. Harry's article had been three pages long, _double sided_, and had nearly made me give up just by looking at it. But I had read it all the same, and the image of the man who had made me pickle rat brains was reluctantly morphed into an individual far braver and good than I'd have thought.

I was also pretty convinced Hermione had helped write the thing.

Standing there, I realised Draco was saying my name, and my first one at that.

"Hmm?"

Malfoy took a step towards me, dissolving any casual distance as his face became only a few centimetres away from mine. It also dissolved most of the feeling in my knees.

"I said, I think there's someone you want to visit."

"Someone?" I repeated blankly, a little too caught up in our proximity.

Malfoy's face broke into a grin, and, in what was probably revenge for me doing the same earlier, dragged me through the crowd.

"I'll be right back," I managed to mutter dazedly to Terry, before Malfoy pulled me back out onto the staircases.

"Where are we going?" I asked stupidly, "We have to be back in time for the lecture."

"Never thought I would hear Meg Forester declare she had to be on time for something." Malfoy smirked, "And there's something I thought you'd want to see. For old time's sake."

My state of confusion lasted until we reached the seventh floor, and began to ascend up a certain spiral staircase; the pale stone walls giving off the typical light, airy feeling of the upper floors of the castle.

The 'someone' was where they always were. And always would be, I mentally added with a grin. The bronze eagle knocker was busy preening its shining metal feathers as Draco and I climbed the last step. With a harsh cry that was evidently supposed to be impressive, it turned to face us.

It actually did a double take.

"You don't go here anymore." It croaked defiantly, for an intelligent door knocker now looking immensely bewildered, "I won't let you in."

"Well, that's not much of a greeting." I informed it, "Didn't you miss me?"

That invoked a great deal of muttering.

"We would like a riddle, please." I said in my sweetest voice, "And you can't say no. We've been through this already."

The eagle commenced muttering, among which I caught the words 'don't I know it'. It appeared that many of the Hogwarts inhabitants had attitudes today.

"Fine." It snapped, "But I'll shout until a teacher comes, you know."

"Good luck with that." I snorted, "We're up a staircase on the seventh floor, in case you didn't know, which you probably didn't. Now, riddle away."

The eagle shot a glare at Malfoy, who had remained silent, a smirk in place on his features; as if it was Malfoy's fault that I was here now. I suppose it kind of was.

"_I cannot be seen,_" The eagle sighed in a defeatist manner,"_I weigh nothing, but put me in a barrel, and I make it lighter. What am I?_"

If it hadn't been for the riddle section of the Daily Prophet that I had read out of pure boredom the other day, this would have been lost on me. As it happened, I had, and I pretended think for a second, just for courtesy's sake.

"You're a hole." I told the eagle triumphantly.

I was fairly certain that it wouldn't take long to come up with a rejoinder at my words and call me another kind of hole, so grabbing Malfoy's arm, I pushed the door open and dashed into the Ravenclaw common room.

The tide of blue and gold met my eyes; my gaze instantly flicking upwards to the painted star chart sprawling across the inky blue ceiling. Light flooded into the room as the sunlight glinted half heartedly through the tall stretches of panes of glass that surrounded us. Over on the sofa, the one that had been the source of many bitter fights to get a seat by the fire, was a cluster of older students; enjoying their free period. A few looked up as we dashed in, no doubt disturbing precious Ravenclaw study time, and those that took us in stared. With my jeans and jumper, and the dark clothes Malfoy always wore no matter how much fun I made of him for it, we clearly weren't students.

"Old time's sake." I told the boy that was looking at us quizzically, "Ravenclaws, you know."

His eyes flicked to Malfoy. Ah. That was the problem with Draco Malfoy; particularly the one of old who had attended to Hogwarts. He was somewhat easy to spot, and frequently rude enough to remember. And _definitely_ not a Ravenclaw.

"He's a Ravenclaw." I informed the sixth year hopefully.

I decided then was a better time than ever to head towards the staircases for the dormitories, heading up the sloping stairs that eventually split towards the two separated wings for the boys and the girls.

"Come on." I smirked at Draco, heading towards the girls' staircase. He pulled a face.

"I'm fairly sure that would be pushing it, Forester." He told me, "And I don't know why your room has so many memories for you, as you seemed to spend most of your nights following me."

I paused in examining the view to the lake through the arched window to shoot him a look,

"You were blatantly following me. I didn't ask you to come into the Prefect's bathroom, remember?"

Malfoy gave me a rather wolfish grin.

"Vividly." He said.

I found myself blushing.

Rather rapidly, I left him for a brief moment, jogging up the well worn stairs to the door I knew so well. It made the same creak it always did as I flung it open, groaning on its hinges as I stepped into my old dormitory.

The blue hangings were the same as ever, the floorboard by my old bed protruding more than ever, the singular reason I had fallen over so much when I stepped out of bed. I looked up at the dark wood canopy, half expecting to see Sampson cleaning his wings there. But he was back at Braxton-On-Sea. I wondered if he missed this place as much as I did.

"Are you serious?"

The voice made me jump a foot in the air, and with a squawk, I wheeled round to see a girl reclining on her four poster bed, reading a grossly pink copy of _Witch Weekly_. She was scowling at me, a scowl I sometimes thought was eerily similar to my own.

"'Serious?'" I asked my sister with an amused look at her choice of words, "Really, Jade?"

"I thought you left last year." Jade sighed sarcastically, "Don't tell me you failed so many N.E. that you have to retake the year?"

"Didn't need them, little sister." I informed her smugly, "Exemption for being a fabulous person, remember?" Or because I had simply been fighting at the Battle of Hogwarts, something which I continued to congratulate myself on, as there was no way I could have passed Defence Against the Dark Arts without outside help.

"Whatever. This isn't your room."

My retort was somewhat stolen when a small, extremely fluffy pink...well, _thing_, crawled out from underneath the bed, waddling out across the floorboards.

"Fitzwilliam." I said, acknowledging the Pygmy Puff stiffly. "So glad to see you haven't fallen off any towers yet. The year is young, I suppose."

"One day, you're going to traumatise him with all the things you've put him through." Jade told me, reaching over the bed to scoop up the ball of fluff.

"'Him?' How on earth can you tell?" I asked shrewdly, peering at Fitzwilliam.

"Why are you even here, Meg?" Jade sighed, apparently not taking kindly to the fact that the pet she had named after Mr Darcy might, in fact, be a girl.

"Didn't I tell you at Christmas? Harry's giving a talk at midday to some first years and invited us along. Because we're battle pros, you know."

"Midday, huh?" Jade smirked, looking at her watch. "It's ten past now."

Our conversation didn't last much longer after that.

"Turns out we have to go!" I announced to Malfoy, as he came into sight as I hurtled down the stairs. He let out a much put upon sigh as I seized his arm and began to march him down the stairs.

"Enough with the manhandling, Forester."

Despite our rather plentiful practice of running through the school when required to, after one too many late night strolls ending with Mrs Norris's eyes glinting at me, it still took too long to retrace our steps back to the third floor. I was not particularly heartened by the sudden lack of people in the corridor.

"For once," I told Draco as I tiptoed forward to find the room everyone had disappeared into, half expecting to run into Peeves, who usually materialized right when I had decided he was exactly who I wanted to avoid, "It's your fault we're late."

Malfoy gave me a narrow-eyed smile that told me he wasn't at all sorry.

The door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom sounded ridiculously and impossible loud as I slowly opened it; almost screaming on its hinges and slamming against the wall. So much for sneaking in.

Faces turned to look at us as we stood in the doorway; and judging from the size of the students behind the desks, they were only a few months in to their first time at Hogwarts. First years. Excellent.

"Oops." I whispered to Malfoy, who snorted.

The wizard who was stood at the front of the classroom, just in front of the clustered group of guests; among which I could see Terry's disapproving glance at us, turned to face us. He reminded me a little of Gilderoy Lockhart, the rather dashing teacher from our second year who had seemed to vanish at the end of the term. I still resented my family's obsession with him as our bookcase was conquered by his collective works, twice over as Jade had just joined the school. Morrigan Erasmus had the same alarmingly blond hair, although it looked decidedly less styled than Lockhart's had been. His robes were a deep wine purple, and golden spectacles were perched ever so slightly lopsided on his face. I had to say, he looked far friendlier than Amycus Carrow, which could only be a good thing.

"Sorry." I mouthed to him, before beginning to creep to the back of the group of ex-students.

Morrigan Erasmus looked somewhat confused, blinked a few times in our direction, and then turned back to the first years. A few of them were sniggering at Draco and I. _Rude_.

"As I was saying," Professor Erasmus said in a voice that sounded tired. I would be too if I had to teach first years, "Although this is a rather unprecedented idea, it shall be no doubt beneficial to your education. Although of course nobody expects you to partake in a battle anytime soon." None of his students laughed as he looked hopefully round the room. I gave a short, loud 'ha!' for his benefit. Malfoy moved away from me slightly.

"Now, I'm fairly sure that Harry Potter himself can better explain the importance of self defence." Professor Erasmus told the class, and I felt myself sniggering slightly over his sincere use of the words 'fairly sure'.

"It wasn't that funny." Malfoy muttered.

"That's what you said when I knocked over that massive wardrobe of yours," I whispered back, working to control myself, "And that _was_ funny."

Harry had stepped forward during our muted conversation, and any sniggering among the first years had abruptly stopped. The way they were looking now wasn't far amiss from what they would look like if he had just plummeted through the ceiling like a comet.

"Er, good afternoon?" The Boy Who Lived said. Not quite what I was expecting.

The first years, either too stunned at the fact a living legend was right before them, or that the living legend's opening sentence had been rather lame, said nothing. Beside me, so quietly I doubt anyone else heard it, Malfoy gave a small exhalation of amusement.

"It wasn't that funny." I reminded him.

"Well," Harry continued, clapping his hands together, "The main reason Her-I mean, I wanted to come here today was to talk about the...er...usefulness that a good knowledge of spells can have when you're defending yourself." He glanced back to someone in the crowd, and I was willing to bet- which, I reminded myself, I was good at- that he had looked at Hermione for confirmation. I wondered if he even wanted to be here at all.

Malfoy and I snorted at the same time.

"So the plan is to get a few of my friends who were in Dumbledore's Army last year to demonstrate the kind of spells they have found useful in the past." Harry said. He didn't have to mention it, but I could tell by the looks on the first years' faces that their thoughts had gone instantly to the Battle of Hogwarts. I shuddered slightly.

I think Malfoy had picked up on the fact that Harry had used the word 'friends' because his neck was craned; looking towards the exit. It reminded me of the Christmas party he had come to at my house when Jade and my mum had eaten far too many Chocolate Cauldrons and had performed a completely human re-enactment of the opening music from _Pride and Prejudice_. The awkwardness had escalated alarmingly quickly.

I suddenly felt a little bit worse for dragging him into this. It would have been like me sitting down on the Slytherin table; something I had done once and had held no inclination to repeat, _ever_.

Looking back to the proceedings, I saw that Harry was busy sending ex-DA members to certain corners of the classroom; no doubt to show various first years certain types of defence spells. Seeing Terry, Antony and Padma heading towards the back of the class, I caught Draco's eye. He seemed to mentally weigh up the situation and decide following me was the lesser of the evils present.

Walking further along the classroom; towards the spiral staircase leading to the teacher's office, I found myself hit by a wash of memories that this room had given me; over seven years worth of images collected and stored in my mind. Throwing scrunched up doodles at Malfoy from across the room, being set upon by Cornish Pixies; laughing at Professor Quirrell's iguana; Dean Thomas singing the national anthem as he hopped round the room under the Imperius Curse. Darker things had happened too, but this place felt so extraordinarily different to the school of last year that I could hardly believe it was the same place.

Terry had already reached his allocated corner and beckoned us over upon seeing us, an eager grin on his face that I couldn't help smiling fondly at.

"What's the plan?" I asked when I got within earshot, "Are we diving straight in to Unforgivable Curses?"

From the looks of the small cluster of first years who had been sent over to us, they had taken me seriously. Terry cocked an unamused eyebrow at me.

"Or just a spell you found useful last year?" He corrected me lightly.

That made me falter. Like with everything I didn't care for, and with everything I wished hadn't happened, I had pushed the events of that night from my mind; ignoring them except for when they rolled upon my consciousness, in the time of waking or falling asleep; churning back into my mind like rough waves upon a shoreline. Opening that line of thought, here of all places, made me exceptionally uncomfortable.

Antony came to my rescue.

"How about _stupefy_?" He asked, pushing his sandy hair from his eyes, his other arm around Padma's shoulders.

At Antony's words, a few of the first years started sniggering, and I suddenly began doubting the intelligence in teaching first years such spells. If they were half as sensible as me, they would be jinxing obnoxious Slytherins the minute they left the classroom.

But Terry didn't seem to see this problem, and soon he was following Harry's instructions; using us (excluding Malfoy, who was standing with his arms crossed, almost daring Terry to make him join in) to demonstrate the spell; and meticulously teaching it to the first years. I had to say, I didn't know why he was bothering with the ministry nowadays; he'd have made a great teacher. Having said that, having Terry as the next Minister for Magic was quite a nice thought. World peace would probably follow.

These past months had felt a little like limbo; stuck with the powerful memory of all that had happened, and not being quite able to move on. I, along with most of the seventh years, had helped out at the ministry in the months after the Dark Lord's fall; helping to track down Death Eaters on the run, and to restore the country to relative security once more. Well, I say helping. They didn't seem to trust me enough to go out and do anything. Mostly, I gained the occult skill of expert coffee making, which I'm sure was the main reason other aurors had got the job done. Never underestimate caffeine.

The Ministry of Magic was all well and fine, but it was, well, _dull_. I longed for Quidditch, and my four poster bed, and wonderful feasts; and the feel of my uniform; the billowing my robes made as I ran, late, to my lessons. I missed it all, and now, looking around at the classroom, the feeling intensified as if I were looking in through a cage; eternally separated from my surroundings.

There was a loud bang, which clearly indicated that Terry was an exceedingly good teacher. As a pile of books that had been hit with the stunning spell toppled from their perch on the windowsill and hit the ground, and I leaned forwards to whisper in Malfoy's ear.

"Just getting some fresh air."

The corridor was cooler after the mass of people in the classroom, and I slipped out with far more elegance than when I had entered, which wasn't too hard. I let out a pent up breath, and, turning away from the staircases, began to head along the third floor corridor, past tapestries and arched windows and snoozing portraits.

I thought, not for the first time in my life, that I had made a mistake. Coming here must feel similar to an imprisoned man looking at the sun. Although slightly less dramatic. I found myself envying those first years; who had seven, good and uninterrupted years left here; here in the castle where I would have happily spent the rest of my life.

"They shouldn't make this place so wonderful." I told a gargoyle, a bitter smile on my lips, "How can anyone ever leave?"

"I just don't know, dear." The gargoyle sighed, taking me aback. I should have known better than to assume the gargoyle couldn't talk. I briefly wondered what the gargoyle who had been witness to my snowman-building skills last year was up to.

I had only gone on a little further when I heard my name called softly,

"Meg."

Turning, I saw Draco standing at the doorway to the classroom, the look in his eyes unreadable.

"First years." I said by way of explanation, waving an arm and forcing a smile on my face, "So annoying."

Malfoy didn't say anything to that, and headed towards me, his hands in his pockets. I sank onto the nearest windowsill as he approached, wondering if my face looked as torn as my thoughts were. Probably.

"Budge up, Forester." He said quietly when he had reached me, a small flicker of a smirk appearing on his face.

Rolling my eyes, and fighting a grin, I drew my knees up to my chest, resting back against the cold stone; the pane against my leg. Malfoy seemed to consider for a moment, then sat down opposite me; his back against the glass. Through the cross-hatched pane I caught a blurred glimmer of the grounds outside; the dark trees spanning in the distance into the Forbidden Forest, which had become surprisingly _un_-forbidden when detentions were in question.

"This is too weird, isn't it?" Malfoy said after a time, flicking his grey eyes towards my face. Unfortunately, I couldn't rearrange my face quick enough, and I realised I'd been caught out,

"Far too weird." I agreed, surrendering. "It's just...I missed this place so much. I _miss_ this place so much."

"I know."

We fell silent again.

"I just feel a bit cheated with it all, really," I finally said with a humourless smile, my fingers moving over the panes unconsciously, "You Know Who completely mucked up our education-"

"How dare he."

"-And I would have given anything to have had one normal year here."

Malfoy suddenly leaned towards me, his arms folded across his chest as his clothing rustled,

"Would you really have, Forester? I know our last year didn't really count, but some of the things in the sixth year," He smirked slightly, "Weren't too bad."

And like that, I was back to when I was sixteen, tripping over a cobblestone and into Malfoy's arms. No, I agreed, that hadn't been too bad at all.

I laughed slightly, and pushed my hair out my eyes,

"Well, not all of it then. Just some of it." I paused in running my fingers over the windowpane to drop them into my lap, "I know I sound like an idiot."

"You sound like an idiot a lot of the time, Forester." Malfoy interjected, a smile on his lips as he leant back against the window.

"You sound like an idiot." I responded heatedly, and had to admit that wasn't my greatest moment in terms of rejoinders.

"But I know leaving here meant a lot more to you than to me." Malfoy continued, ignoring my insult, "But you still have the people that came here, you know, and the good memories to know you had the time of your life. And that Ravenclaw scarf you insist on sleeping with, or my tie that you never gave back."

"I hope that window opens, you know." I said with a wry smile, and received one in return. But however much we joked and were worshippers of sarcasm, nobody could quite cheer me up like Draco Malfoy. Oddly enough. And I suppose he was right. I did have him, and Terry, and Antony; people I wanted around me forever; ones that I loved. I had once thought that the people who made up Hogwarts made it what it was, and I suppose that was correct. It was just this funny old building; with its endless supply of back chatting decorations, poltergeists and anguish-ridden ghosts. It had got under my skin from the second I had seen it from across the wind-swept lake at eleven years old; and I guess it never truly left any of us. There was always going to be a part of me that yearned for this place; the turrets, the towers, the sloping grounds and the twisting staircases. It was part of its magic. And the real magic was that I had gone here; had experienced so much, and left with so much. Quidditch matches, (which I had carefully avoided since) detentions, Pygmy Puffs, Potions lessons, moose antlers, and a thousand other things that I would lie awake at night and smile over.

And Malfoy.

As he leant across and kissed me, my mind flittered back to our last year here. Unbidden and unwelcome memories that I had feared to remember now brought to light. The year my perfect castle had been anything but. But once again, the people had been there; and as my hands gripped the fabric of Malfoy's clothes, I realised just how much that had meant to me; and how much I couldn't have coped with if they hadn't been there. Plus, I probably would have been murdered in the first week if someone hadn't saved me from myself.

"I suppose this is you two no longer interested in teaching self- defence?"

Terry's tiredly amused tones floated down the corridor, and I broke away from Malfoy, my head reeling slightly as I flicked a glance over my shoulder,

"Um. We thought you had it covered." I replied, slightly guiltily.

"Harry's wrapping things up if you wanted to come back in," Terry continued, shaking his head. I sometimes felt sorry for the forty year old trapped inside his eighteen year old frame. "We're handing out last minute advice on protection."

Malfoy gave a snort, his hands still on my waist, as if he were thinking of something else.

"We'll be right there." I told Terry, ignoring Draco, "Just give us a second."

The door shut again and I turned to look at the grey eyes that were trained on my face,

"Thank you for that." I said gently, giving him a smile that wasn't a smirk for a change.

"For the snort?" He asked, his eyes lighting with the look he wore when he was being difficult just to annoy me.

"No." I sighed, leaning forwards to kiss him lightly on the lips, "Not the snort."

Wriggling from his grasp, I got to my feet, offering a hand out to him.

"Come on," I grinned, "Let's go and tell children to stay in school."

He reluctantly took my hand, rising to his feet as he let me lead him back towards the classroom. Just before I got to the door, he pulled me back slightly,

"Oh, and Forester?" He said, fixing me with a slightly amused look, "You were the best thing about this place."

To that I could only smile, his hand still in mine as we entered the classroom, slipping in behind all the people I had gone to school with. Of course I missed this place, and I always would; but at the same time I had taken an awful lot with me when I had left.

And so, as I surreptitiously flicked a glance through my lashes at Draco standing beside me, his hand still in mine, I realised that, in many ways, the people had been the best things about Hogwarts.

And Malfoy, I thought with a small smile, a rush of happiness blossoming inside me, he had been one of the best things for me too. And he still was.

And, hell, I intended it to be that way forever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews on the first one-shot everybody! *happy dance***

**I should probably say that I'm dotting around with time somewhat here...this one-shot is set before the previous one...roll with it ;) Wibbly Wobbly timey wimey and all that. Who knows? The next one might be before this one and everything will get really confusing! :B You may thank my organizational skills.**

**This ones a bit shorter...sorry about that xD**

** Also thanks to andyandava for giving me the idea for this! :B**

**In which Draco Malfoy comes to dinner.**

Rain came in off the sea; washing the coastline in a dull grey as it swept inland. It was late August, but that was the British summertime for you. On the coastline, Braxton-On-Sea sat perched amidst the foul weather; its houses and seven shops drenched from the rain; slate roof tiles shiny and slick with wet.

I looked up from my dinner as the raindrops began to pound more fiercely at the kitchen window.

"What's the point of being a witch if you can't make it stop raining?" I asked of nobody in particular.

"Because then what would England be known for?" My sister put in, feeding her Pygmy Puff steak pie under the table. I should have known that thing was a carnivore.

"Harry Potter, for one thing." I offered, subtly moving my potatoes over to the other side of the plate with my fork.

"Explain that to the muggles." Jade snorted.

"Meg, either eat your potatoes or leave them alone." My mum told me, and I suddenly reverted back to being a five year old, instead of a seventeen year old who had just left school for the adult world nearly three months ago.

"It's not my fault they look like rat brains." I muttered towards my dinner.

"I thought we could go in to Diagon Alley tomorrow, Jade." My mum addressed my sister, determinedly ignoring my grouse with the potatoes. "We've only got a few more days before term starts."

I let them go over Jade's book list and other requirements for the new term that had been delivered by a far more competent owl than Sampson only a few days before. My little owl had never much liked the Hogwarts ones. I could see the judging hostility in his eyes when they flew through our kitchen window. Now, I focused on eating my dinner, minus the potatoes, stabbing at the steak pie with a sudden plunge of bitterness as I thought about Jade going back to Hogwarts in a few days time. I suppose it was a little small of me to admit that I was desperately envious. But I was.

"Are you going into the Ministry next week, Meg? We need to get more Floo Powder if you are."

I was roused from the self-pitying party I had been hosting in my head to meet my mum's gaze,

"Yeah I am," I said a little distractedly. Since leaving Hogwarts- something I had yet to come to terms with- I'd been helping out at the Ministry of Magic, along with the majority of the seventh year students from last term. Whilst helpfully supplying Aurors and other workers with coffee rushes, I'd also not so helpfully been using the time to hang around with my friends. Well, I say friends. Terry was usually far too absorbed with whatever dreadfully dull task they'd given him, so it was normally Antony and I that would wander around the dark tiled corridors, following the interdepartmental memos to offices that ranged from dark and businesslike to downright tacky and strange. Take the Ludicrous Patents Office as an example that I was sure they were just filling empty space. Mostly, we frequented the Department of Magical Games and Sports, where the employees were far more receptive to an impromptu Quaffle throw about than in other departments. I'd made up my mind that if I did land up working in the Ministry for the rest of my life, it was going to be in that department.

I was also sure 'friends' wasn't the most apt description of the company I kept at the Ministry, owing to the fact that I couldn't really class Draco Malfoy as a friend. He was more an argue with then kiss after a round of smirking type of person. Whatever that was officially called.

Thinking of Malfoy reminded me of an idea I'd had a few days back.

"I'm thinking of inviting my boyfriend over for dinner tomorrow." I said pensively, cutting across a conversation that appeared to have evolved from the Hogwarts book list to Gilderoy Lockhart.

Given that on the scale of random things I had announced over the dinner table this one really ranked rather low, the reaction was somewhat impressive.

My mum dropped her knife; the silverware hitting the plate with a loud clatter. Jade accidentally inhaled the forkful of pie she had just crammed into her mouth, Fitzwilliam the Pygmy Puff simply looking meekly at her from the ground as she choked.

"What?" I asked innocently as my mum hit Jade on the back,

"Well, I- you have a boyfriend?" My mum stuttered incredulously, recollecting her cutlery as Jade recovered.

"Yes." I cast my mind back doubtfully, "I was sure I told you."

"You're inviting _Draco Malfoy_ round for dinner?" Jade said in the same tone my mum was using, looking at me as if I were a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

"You're boyfriend is _Draco Malfoy_?"

"Why are we saying his name like that?"

"But he's the boy you yelled at on the platform last term!" My mum seemed to be under the impression that was the only time I had yelled at Malfoy. Oh dear.

"Oh yeah, that's him." I said nonchalantly, "We had a minor fall out over some Death Eaters."

I was rewarded with a stunned silence, until my mum turned on Jade.

"You knew about this?"

"Hey, I just thought it was one of those weird things nobody talked about." Jade shrugged, pushing her plate away from her.

"If by 'weird' you mean lasting longer than any of _your_ moron boyfriends," I muttered in the direction of my abandoned food.

"Hey!"

"The thing is, Meg," My mum cut in hurriedly before Jade could take her indignation any further, "I don't think any of us were expecting you and the son of Lucius Malfoy to get together."

That was true, I thought. Right up to and including the two people in question.

"Well, I'm sorry to inform you that the son of Lucius Malfoy and I have, in fact, got together." I said, rather staggered at the reaction I had created. "I don't see what the big deal is, I mean I could be going out with Fenrir Greyback, right?"

"That's _so_ not funny, Meg." Jade sighed.

"But the point is, I've been kind of going out with him since last year. Well, not really. But if he hadn't...well, maybe not-"

"Would you like to invite him over tomorrow night?" My mum asked tiredly, cutting across my incoherent babbling.

"Yes please," I said sweetly, "That would be lovely."

Of course, I considered, as I gave a hopeful wave of my wand, causing my plate to skid across the room to land with a loud bang in the sink (I was getting better at it) there was the possibility that Malfoy wouldn't want to come over at all, which would be rather inconvenient as I had just fought rather well to get him over here. After all, I hadn't officially met his parents yet- we were all ignoring the time I had crept round to his house over Easter whilst a few murderous and psychopathic Death Eaters were also in residence. And, technically, neither of us had officially declared that we were going out. Maybe I had overstepped the mark a little.

Heading upstairs to the sanctuary of my room, where the only person who had a strong aversion to Draco Malfoy was my past summer self, I crossed the room to the plastic writing desk, scraping off a layer of scrawled on parchment and battered books to settle down before a quill and bottle of ink.

Sampson, the little Eurasion Scops Owl that seemed to be missing Hogwarts as much as I was, gave a squawk and settled down on the desk next to me, sensing a letter for him to send.

"You up for going to Wiltshire?" I asked the little owl. Piercing me with his large, orange eyes, his wings seemed to give a little shrug as if to say, '_again_?'

I pulled a face as I realised I was out of parchment, and after a few minutes of rummaging around the mess of my room, I resorted to writing on a torn out page from a notebook. By a twist of misfortune, the notebook had been around since my childhood, and had been printed with images from the story of _Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump._

Wondering how to make this situation better, I began to write the letter, pausing to scribble out to the best of my ability the illustration of a rabbit leaping away from a confused looking man, and the caption that read, '_Babbitty turns into a bunny and hops away! Silly Muggle!'_

Hoping that the poorly concealed image of childhood stories wouldn't scare Draco any more than the contents of the letter that demanded his presence tomorrow night at seven, I folded it up and handed it to Sampson.

"Try and pull a cute face." I told him, "We don't want to completely freak him out."

Sampson nipped my finger slightly at that, and took off out the open window before I could say that, of course, he looked cute _all_ the time.

I tossed the quill down and scrubbed my hands through my hair, giving a yawn. The rain was losing its velocity, now settling into a steady, constant drizzle. I would hazard a bet it was here to stay for next day or so.

I closed the window before flopping back onto my bed; the players of the Woollongong Warriors waving at me from one of the numerous posters on the wall. After all, Sampson would probably be back tomorrow morning with Draco's reply. He had developed an unlikely friendship with Draco' vicious Eagle Owl, the last I had heard. At least he had succeeded where I had failed.

I thought amusedly of my tiny, fluffy owl carrying a letter decorated with bunnies to Malfoy's big, dark manor house; so completely out of place. I contemplated that I myself was pretty out of place in Malfoy's world; as he was in mine. But maybe that was part of the beauty of it. In fact, I was pretty sure it was.

When I woke up at ten o'clock the next morning, I found an empty house. It seemed Jade and mum had gone off to Diagon Alley without me. I would have been mildly annoyed spare the thought I would no doubt have spent the trip bitter and envious, trailing after Jade as she collected everything she needed for Hogwarts. Perhaps not the best shopping partner.

I'd just come back from the bathroom, a towel wrapped fetchingly around my head (I didn't have enough faith in my skills to dry it by magic, which was justifiable as last time I had tried that I'd nearly set my skirt on fire) when I heard the tapping of a beak against my window.

Racing to the curtains and throwing them open, I cranked open the window latch to let Sampson swoop in, shrieking happily through the letter clamped in his beak.

"Good morning." I told him, "Had fun with the psycho owl?"

The loud screech that I received was apparently an affirmative.

I took the letter from him, which looked a great deal more formal than my Babbitty Rabbitty paper, and smoothed out the parchment, reading the neat, familiar scrawl. I could almost feel Malfoy's smirking radiating off it.

_Nice paper, Forester. Good to know you're still as mature as the last time I saw you. _

_Dinner with your family- if they're anything like you- sounds terrifying._

_I'll be there. _

_P.S. I really hope your love for 'Babbitty Rabbitty' stops at stationary. _

"Smirky moron." I muttered, grinning.

The day passed alarmingly quickly, especially given that with each passing hour I grew more and more panicked. I seemed to have fully realised that I had, in fact, invited _Draco Malfoy_ (for some reason I couldn't shift the voice Jade and mum had used when saying his name from my mind) round for dinner. It hit me that not only was he going to see me in my natural, and very weird, habitat, but he was going to meet my mother and my sister; the only two people I knew who were nearly as strange as I was. Throw in Fitzwilliam and Sampson, and I kind of wished I had kept my big mouth shut.

But seven o'clock came and there was a knock on the door, no matter how hard I wanted a redo.

After a rather loud and panicked announcement that I would get the door, I sprinted to the handle, shoving past Jade who was making for it too; and threw it open with a rather large bang.

Standing on the doorstep, Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"That was enthusiastic." Was his way of greeting.

"Close is what it was." I corrected him, heaving out a sigh as I leant against the doorframe. "Sorry if this is weird."

"You're always weird, Forester." Malfoy said immediately, his grey eyes flickering with amusement as a smile worked its way onto his features. I never got tired of the way he looked at me, "I've got used to it. Your owl and your stationary choices, however."

"I'm not the one with the savage monster of an owl," I reminded him.

"He's called Bubo."

"Of course he is."

"It's Latin for 'eagle owl.'"

"Uh huh."

"Meg!" My mum called from the kitchen, "Let the poor boy in! It's raining outside, you know."

I turned to shoot Malfoy a humoured look,

"You're not poor at all, are you?"

A small glint lit in his grey eyes as he smirked.

"Not really." He said.

Surrendered to the fact that he really was coming to my house for dinner, I stepped away from the door to let him in.

"Come on then, _Draco Malfoy_."

"Why are you saying my name like that?"

I let that question slide as I led him along the little hall towards the kitchen and dining room, my fingers absent-mindedly at his arm. I hadn't really expected to feel nervous at the prospect of introducing him to my family; so far, where other people had been concerned, I didn't spare too much thought. But suddenly the feeling stole over me that I really wanted them to like him.

Unfortunate that his people skills were about as good as a Fire Crab's, then.

My mum had already set a bowl of spaghetti on the table; which I naturally judged as dangerous food. Tomato sauce had the habit of going everywhere when I was left in charge. She glanced over as we entered the room, and from the look on her face as she took in Malfoy, I would have thought she was expecting him to burst into the room with a Death Eater mask on.

"Mum this is...er, Draco Malfoy." I fought very hard not to use the tone we had adopted yesterday, more for Malfoy's sake if anything.

"Hello, Draco." My mum actually smiled at him, which I considered to be good progress. Maybe I was the only one freaking out, "How are you?"

I expected sarcasm, or some cutting remark, but all Malfoy said was,

"Good, thanks." He caught my eye, and faltered, "What?"

I couldn't quite gather up any eloquence, and simply gaped at him.

"I'm Jade." My sister shot at him from her seat at the table, not looking particularly pleased, "Seeing as I'm not important enough to get an introduction from anyone else."

"I just thought you were one of those weird things we didn't talk about." I told her, cutting across any greeting Malfoy could have made with a wide toothed, entirely false grin. Jade raised an amused eyebrow, caught out.

Considering that the level of attitude in the room had risen significantly, the tension I had been feeling since opening the front door had somehow been reduced by the time we were all sat round the table; spaghetti heaped into four bowls. Given that our company was usually three, we had resorted to giving Malfoy the bowl that was only ever used when our Muggle neighbour, Mrs Jamieson, came to visit. I had to say I preferred Malfoy using it by far.

"So, Draco," My mum said after a short, uncomfortable silence, spare the clatter of cutlery, and the sticky noise spaghetti always made against forks, "Are you helping out at the Ministry too?"

"Yes," I said, accidentally answering for him, which caused Malfoy to give a humoured snort, "Most of us are helping out there."

"Define 'helping,' Meg," Malfoy smirked. He seemed to have realised that addressing me as 'Forester' was going to create a fair bit of confusion.

"Well, sometimes you need to chuck a Quaffle at people to cheer them up." I grinned guiltily, "That's helping."

The truth was, although I saw Malfoy at the Ministry quite a lot, he wasn't exactly involved in the parts where I mucked around. A few years ago, I would have been sure that Malfoy's future would have been ascertained by his father's influence. However, now, obvious problems had arisen due to the tiny matter of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Any influence Lucius Malfoy had held was now eradicated for his picking the wrong side, and the presence of his son in the Ministry only a few months after the Dark Lord's downfall wasn't the most welcome sight. Malfoy spoke a little bitterly of it, but I'm sure the way the employees there treated him got to him more than he let on.

I decided it was time for a change of topic.

"Malfoy's good at Quidditch." I blurted out, realising too late that I'd used his last name. He and I really needed to sort that out sometime.

"And you're not." Jade said, spooning pasta into her mouth, "I guess that balances that out."

"I'm very good at Quidditch thank you." I said stiffly, "I can catch and throw and everything."

"Didn't you break your arm the last time you played at Hogwarts?" Malfoy cut in, and I scowled at him as Jade snorted.

"You were delirious in the hospital wing." I informed him, "You imagined it."

"How's the spaghetti?" My mum asked, seeming a little confused by all the banter.

"It's really nice." If I hadn't have seen Malfoy's lips move, I wouldn't have believed he had just spoken. It took a while for my brain to function until Malfoy spoke again,

"Is that a picture of you?" He asked, smirking as he pointed towards the kitchen wall.

"Don't look at it." I groaned, knowing full well he was looking at my eight year old self; grinning as I grappled with a massive furious looking white bunny rabbit by the name of Mr Fizzyball.

"That rabbit is bigger than your whole head-"

"I said don't look at it."

I actually found myself relaxing as we fell into a pattern of awkward, polite conversation and then finding our stride with sarcastic quips. It seemed cramming at least three similar people into a room would wield those results.

Finally, when the spaghetti had vanished; the bowls more or less empty, my mum sat back in her chair, smiling,

"Well, you lot can clear off whilst I get this cleaned up. It was very nice to meet you, Draco."

"Thanks for dinner." Malfoy said, and I grabbed his arm, beginning to drag him out the room before this got any weirder.

"I hope you're not going upstairs," My mum shot at me, suddenly looking very, well, _mum-ish._

"Oh, wow, _really_ mum?"

"Yes, really." My mum said as Malfoy began to snigger, "How about you go outside?"

"It's raining outside." I reminded her.

"And you can use magic. What a wonderful world we live in."

"Come on." I sighed tiredly to Draco, seeing no way out of this situation, grabbing myself a coat as I headed out the front door.

"She does know I've been in your room before, doesn't she?" Malfoy smirked as I pulled the hood of my coat up; rain bouncing from the pavement up the backs of my legs. I smiled at that, a little weakly. That time had been over Easter; and what seemed like a lifetime ago; living in a constant state of worry and fear.

My hand found his.

"One moment, Forester." He murmured, sounding amused as he reached for his wand, "We should at least pretend we're wizards."

"If Mrs Jamieson sees you," I warned, but had to cut myself off, because I had no idea what would happen if Mrs Jamieson did see him.

"I think I can handle a nosy Muggle neighbour."

"That's what you think now." I smirked.

Ignoring my wise words of warning, Malfoy muttered the incantation for the Impervius Charm, causing the rain to simply cascade around us; hitting us but not making us wet.

"Thank you." I said, glad one of us was capable.

We walked on a little in silence, down the street as I absent-mindedly led him towards the end of the road; where a stile was perched among overgrown hedgerows.

"I can imagine you growing up here, you know." Malfoy mused, looking around him "Although I bet you annoyed the neighbours."

"They think I'm insane." I said with a casual wave of my hand as I hopped up onto the stile. After some inelegant manoeuvring that saw me over it, I only had to wait a few seconds before Malfoy jumped down into the field next to me, not seeming to mind the mud that laced up his shoes and trousers.

"I-" I began, but a second later, his arms had whipped around me, pulling me towards him as he kissed me. Under normal circumstances, his kisses had the power to somewhat disorientate me, and now, completely taken unawares, I felt as if someone had rocketed my brain into the drizzly sky above us.

His hands pushed at my waist, me stepping closer as I wound my hands through his blond hair, my breathing crazily erratic as I refused to pull away. My heart was hammering in my chest, and when we finally took a step back it was like I had been thrown into cold water; or woken up.

"Thanks for inviting me over, Forester." He whispered, his arms still wrapped around me as his fingers played with the ends of my hair. "It was a lot more normal than I thought it was going to be."

"Ha." I laughed, beginning to walk up the worn grass that worked an unsteady path up the hill, my arms still flung around him in an awkward hug, "That's because we weren't ambushed by the carnivorous Pygmy Puff or the hyperactive tiny owl."

"That might be it."

We continued up the hill as the conversation lulled; the rain pattering down on the long, wild grass, unable to soak through our shoes.

"Hang on," Malfoy said slowly, as we came upon a large tree; its branches twisting upwards; just visible through a lush cluster of leaves, "We've been here before."

"Oh," I realised, remembering that night over the Easter holidays, which I'd tried to suppress with most memories of last term. Me apparating from his house; his arm trapped in the desperate clutches of my hands as we hurtled here; to land beneath the stars and the cold spring air. "Yes we have." I finished lamely.

"It felt like a nightmare." Malfoy said in a low voice, looking up at the branches were I used to climb, pretending to be an intrepid explorer. "That whole year."

"I'm pretty sure it was." I smiled weakly, reaching out a hand to run it over the worn, soggy bark. "But some bits weren't so bad, you know."

He shot me a bitter smile, his grip on me tightening as he pulled me closer; my head nestling beneath his chin.

"So you're my girlfriend then?" He asked, my new proximity causing my ears to pick up the faint hum in his throat as he spoke.

"Yes." I replied, "Sorry about that."

"I guess it's fine." Malfoy smirked, "Perhaps not something I would have anticipated calling you two years ago."

"Ah yes," I mused, working to keep a straight face, "Poor Pansy."

We both snorted.

I peeked up at the sky, perfectly content to be folded against Malfoy's tall figure.

"Look at that," I smiled, pointing over to the distance where the dark scurrying clouds were stripping away to uniform darkness of the night sky; leaving in their wake a small cluster of glittering stars, "The rainstorm's going."

We both stood under that tree; raindrops thudding on the summer leaves as we watched the sky slowly begin to clear as the lights of Braxton-On-Sea blinked below us at the bottom of the hill.

Nestled, warm and dry against Malfoy, his arms around me, I let a contented smile blossom over my face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry I'm uploading this a little later than I would like...I had results day today so I was a wreck yesterday...as a result I think this isn't the most awesomest one...noooo.**

**Yeaaaah I hope next week's will be better (and longer oooops)**

**Thank you for all the reviews guys! C:**

**In which names are hard to remember and Yule Balls are not for me**

I was assured things weren't going to abide to the plan the minute I caught my shoe on the suit of armour and sent it skidding across the corridor.

My shoe, not the suit of armour.

"Oh, come on." I muttered, running forwards to recollect it, "I actually have to be moderately elegant tonight."

Terry, who was still fiddling self-consciously with the sleeves of his dark blue dress robes, snorted.

"I wish you all the best, Meg."

I had to say I agreed with his sarcastic tone, as I jammed the shoe back on my foot, disgruntled, and continued to head towards the Entrance Hall once more; Terry and Antony following.

In my opinion, this Yule Ball was a complete waste of time. Of course, I had got to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas, which was always a good thing. The snow here glittered in the grounds; frosting over the trees in the Forbidden Forest and casting the edges of the lake to become pale and glistening with ice. Braxton-On-Sea would no doubt be wet and rainy. But all the pretty scenery of the castle was a little ruined by the constant talk of clothes, dates and hair; things I was certainly a little less enthusiastic about.

"You know," I commented, giving us a quick look over as we headed out onto the Grand Staircase, "We kind of look like a blue explosion."

I had a valid point. With the blue dress I was wearing, and the equally blue dress robes on Antony and Terry, we were currently poster-children for Ravenclaw.

Neither of them commented at that; although I noticed Antony determinedly moved a few steps ahead.

"I heard the Weird Sisters are going to be there tonight." Terry said eagerly, evidently deciding it was best to move on from my comment, "You like them, right, Meg?"

I liked them very much; having a few too many posters on my bedroom wall at home to be considered a healthy liking, I suppose. In fact, they were really the main reason I was dragging myself to this event.

The staircases were full of people; Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, heading towards the Entrance Hall; where the masked hum of excited, talking voices radiated. All around us; fancy gowns and dress robes added a shimmering colour to our surroundings that the usual Grand Staircase lacked. Although, I noted, as I passed a suit of armour singing 'God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs' at the top of his lungs, Hogwarts had gone all out with decoration this year.

"Who are you both going with again?" I asked, fiddling self-consciously with the waist of my dress.

"Romilda Vane," Antony said, not looking particularly thrilled about it,

"You should have asked Padma," Terry told him, "Didn't you hear how loudly she was saying she didn't have a partner yet in the common room the other night?"

"Why would I ask Padma?" Antony asked blankly. Terry seemed to find that amusing, but made no effort to say anything else.

"Well, at least my partner speaks English, I suppose." Antony mused, casting me a smirk, "Although then again, with Romilda maybe that's not such a good thing."

"Why did you ask her if you don't like her?" Terry sighed.

"You know, I had to resort to desperate measures." I said defensively cutting across Terry as Antony met my eye, "I didn't have a partner a week ago!"

"You hit him with a snowball," Antony reflected, "And he asked you to the Yule Ball. I don't really get how that worked out."

"Romilda Vane." I reminded him. He pulled a face. I slapped the banister in mock celebration at my victory, causing the everlasting icicles there to shake.

The Entrance Hall looked even more fabulous than it normally did at Christmas. It was essentially a huge holly and enchanted snow explosion. A few girls waiting by the front doors shrieked as the bewitched snowfall drifted down towards them, dashing into the hall before it ruined their hair. The floor glistened like it was made of ice; and tinsel and wreaths lined the walls. People were clustered by the stairs, by the doors, waiting for their partners and chattering excitedly.

I spied Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion, over by the doors to the Entrance Hall Courtyard, her gown silver and shining, and immediately wondered why I'd bothered dressing up if I was going to be in the same room as her all evening. Everywhere was glitter and tinsel and I felt my eyes aching with the resplendent overload.

"What does your partner look like, Meg?" Antony asked, standing on tiptoes as we tried to see through the crowd.

"Um. Medium height." I said, wondering how best to voice this, "And er...dark hair?"

Antony put his heels back on the floor and looked accusingly over at me.

"You've forgotten what he looks like, haven't you?" He said.

I was spared any confession by the unwelcome piercing of my eardrums from a person standing a few feet away.

"Did you even comb your hair, Forester?" Pansy screeched as she muscled through the crowd, her hand clamped tightly around Draco Malfoy's arm. He looked rather bored, as if he would rather be somewhere else. That made two of us, I suppose. He met my glance for a split second before looking away, a faint sneer curling on his lips.

The truth was, I kind of _hadn't_ combed my hair, having been running late as it was, but Pansy didn't need to know that.

"Well, at least a pink pavlova didn't explode all over my robes," I commented, nodding to the frilly dress robes she was wearing, "That was a bit of bad luck."

She sneered at me before storming off, dragging Malfoy behind her. I snorted after them.

"It looks like she's taking him for a walk-"

"-Is that you partner, Meg?"

To be perfectly honest, I had no idea, as I turned away from looking at the two Slytherins disappear amongst the crowd and instead took in a dark haired boy from Beauxbatons heading towards us; followed by a large group of friends with their partners already with them. He was taller than medium height (my bad) and dark eyes that looked a little unimpressed with his bright, glittering surroundings.

When he reached us he gave a smile, before speaking in a heavily laced French accent, his words almost drowned out by the chattering of his friends behind him, who were paying us little notice.

"Hello."

"Hi." I responded awkwardly, wondering how long it would be before it was acceptable to head back to my dormitory. I suppose I was lucky to have actually found a partner. Antony's comment about the snowball had been right; about a week ago we had been mucking around in the snow out in the Entrance Hall Courtyard, and quite by accident I'd smacked my now Yule Ball partner in the face. I had been aiming for the cluster of not so random Slytherins next to him, but with my aim I should have anticipated the outcome. A few moments later, after he'd come over to begin a conversation (because apparently hitting someone in the face was a perfect way to make new friends) he'd asked me to go to the ball with him. I suppose I had literally knocked the realisation in to him that he didn't yet have a partner.

"See you guys in a sec." I told Antony and Terry, grabbing the arm my Beauxbatons partner was offering me.

It was only as we headed to the doors that I realised I had no idea what his name was.

Things were getting awkward rather quickly.

Trying desperately to remember his name, I led him towards the Great Hall; heading through the great, arching double doors as we entered a completely unrecognisable scene. It was as if the entire hall had been covered in ice; the walls white and glinting; the floor sparkling underfoot. Up ahead, where the staff table had once been was now an expanse of space, white and glittering, which I had a terrible feeling was a dance floor. Brilliant.

Tables littered the spaces nearest us; purple tablecloths rimmed with gold, and getting a closer look, I saw to my dismay there was not yet any food on them.

Antony caught up to us a moment later, Romilda Vane now on his arm; her hair glossy and dark against her red dress robes. She was also busy peering through the crowd, not paying the slightest bit of attention to us.

"Terry's just waiting for his _date_." Antony grinned, "The Beauxbatons girl who was sitting near us a lot at dinnertimes?"

"I _knew_ she couldn't just be coming over for our plate of sausages." I mused, before waving a hand to the dance floor behind me, "When is this actually starting?"

Antony's answer was cut off by Professor Mcgonagall hurrying through the front doors, and I was left gaping as I saw she had worn her hair down, something I could never have pictured no matter how strong my imagination was.

"Move aside there," She said, pushing students back to form a rough pathway through the crowds, "The champions will be coming through any minute."

The resulting buzz of excitement was heightened when the band, that I had previously failed to notice earlier, struck up a lively piece of music, and the path that Professor McGonagall had been trying to clear grew more pronounced.

I was shoved backwards by the multitude of people moving to make way for the entrance of the four champions and their partners. My squawks of protest were a little drowned out from the music, but my regretfully nameless partner shot me a quick look. I doubted my angry exclamations were making him weak at the knees.

Between people's shoulders, I caught glimpses of the champions making their way towards the dance floor at the back of the Great Hall; a flash of Cedric Diggory's smile, and the Viktor Krum's forever glum looking expression; a girl I didn't recognise on his arm. And there was Harry Potter, looking about as awkward as I was feeling. I counted my blessings I wasn't the one who had to open the dance.

I stepped back as they went past out place, and nearly collided with Terry, who had just made his way over with the pretty Beauxbatons girl who had sat at our table over the past few weeks.

"This is Sophie." Terry grinned, needlessly gesturing to her as she gave us a shy smile.

His eyes flicked to my partner and I realised with a swoop of horror he probably wanted me to introduce him. Well, _that_ wasn't going to happen, unless it was acceptable to call him 'nameless boy', which I doubted it was.

Instead, I pretended I hadn't noticed his meaningful look, and cast around the room for something to distract me until the champions began dancing and we could all be diverted by the ensuing awkward hilarity.

By some degree of chance, I noticed a collection of drinks standing on one of the purple tablecloths a few metres away. Shrugging, I made a beeline for them, scooping up one of the cups and quickly downing it. Too late, I realised it was Red Current Rum.

"Are you ok, Meg?" Antony asked, not sounding particularly concerned "You look like you're choking."

The music took on a higher level of volume just then, and from the crowd shuffling towards the dance floor, I took it to mean that the champions had officially opened the dance.

Hooray.

A few minutes later, my Beauxbatons partner turned to me, holding out his hand in the manner universally recognised as an invitation to dance. Before I had really registered what I was doing, I had seized his hand and had let him steer in the direction of the dancing. I wasn't sure what I was thinking, perhaps a desire to get this out the way as soon as possible, but when we actually found ourselves in the midst of dancing partners, who all seemed to know the dance exceptionally well, I thought maybe it wasn't as bad as it could have been. After all, there was a rather large amount of people around us, which made any falling over slightly harder to spot to any onlookers.

I changed my mind again when my partner (I was still frantically trying to remember his name. The closest I had got was to think it probably began with a 'G'. Probably) put his arms on my waist, and the reality of actually _having_ to dance hit me.

I suddenly figured that the most likely reason nobody had asked me to the Yule Ball was my obvious lack of coordination, apparent to anyone within a five mile radius whenever I had a Potions lesson. No wonder they needed to enlist the help of foreign schools to ensure everyone got a partner. The poor boy.

Thankfully, after a few minutes of self-conscious shuffling, the band drew the song to a close, and I fell upon the opportunity to pretend to need to get something to drink.

In fact, I created an accidental pattern that I followed for the next ten minutes or so; pretending to go and get a drink, then actually drinking it as I saw my partner glancing my way, before heading back to the dance floor for the last few seconds of the song, therefore effectively limiting my actual dancing time. Yes, it was weird, but really, I was fairly sure I was saving myself and those around me a fair few injuries. The uncomfortable situation was no more than heightened by the not particularly great English from my partner, and my nonexistent French.

It was a good plan until I realised I'd probably drunk a bit too much.

At the same time, I decided that maybe I wasn't so bad at dancing after all. Of course, the Weird Sisters weren't here yet, but I found a new appreciation for classical music, momentarily sidelined by the sight of Professor Dumbledore dancing past with Madame Maxime.

Shortly after the fifth downed goblet, I finally remembered my partner's name.

"Tristan!" I exclaimed, a little louder than I had intended as I pointed at him triumphantly, a few couples dancing past shooting us looks, "Your name is Tristan!"

Whilst I was personally thrilled that I had worked it out after all this time, Tristan looked a little less amused. And shortly after that, he said that he was just going to get a drink.

It was a little while later when I figured fifteen minutes was perhaps too long a time to get a drink. For once, I used the logical skills that Ravenclaws were supposed to have, and guessed that my behaviour had not helped me in retaining my partner.

"Are you ok, Meg?"

The question was posed to me for the second time that night, and I turned to meet Terry's voice, realising that I must have been standing in the middle of the dance floor, and not dancing. Sinful.

"I think I've been abandoned," I told him sternly, looking around me to make sure. There, chatting animatedly to Michael Corner, was Ginny Weasley, Neville by her side. I could just make out the flash of red from Ron Weasley's hair over by the tables. But no Tristan. It was a shame, I reflected. I'd just remembered his name.

Terry paused, Sophie beside him, and looked me over.

"Have you been drinking the Red Current Rum?" He finally asked.

"Nope. Oh, I see him, he's dancing with Parvati. Fine."

A hand clamped down on my shoulder, and Antony appeared beside us, looking exhausted.

"How's it going?" Terry asked, seeming to be fighting a smile with difficulty.

"Terrible." Antony sighed, "I think she's gone to dance with someone else. She kept talking about Harry Potter."

"Wow, you'd think he was famous or something." I interjected.

"Thanks, Meg. Where's your partner, anyway?"

"I ditched him. He was cramping my style. Also, I couldn't remember his name."

"Why'd you say yes in the first place?" Terry sighed,

"It wasn't like he was proposing," I snorted loudly, swaying slightly, "And it wasn't like I had anyone else to go with!"

"I'd have gone with you," Terry said, then promptly looked uncomfortable. I think I might have misheard him.

"Let's dance, Meg." Antony declared gallantly, grabbing my hand, "And I'll try and be as interesting as the oh-so-wonderful Harry Potter."

I was perfectly happy to dance with him, even if I doubted him being able to take on a Hungarian Horntail anytime soon, and for the first time that evening, I felt perhaps I was actually genuinely enjoying myself.

I stepped back as Fred and Angelina quickstepped past us and landed heavily on someone's foot.

"Watch where you're going, Forester." An irritated, and thoroughly recognisable voice snapped.

"Why, look how fate likes to _throw_ us together, huh, Malfoy?" I grinned, thinking of the time I'd fallen on him at the boathouse. It did leave me to wonder at the danger protruding cobblestones produced around here. Malfoy didn't look particularly amused, but didn't say anything.

"Goldstein is your date?" Pansy screeched in my ear, and I realised I had momentarily forgotten about her existence. Good times. "_Really_? Was it a pity date, Goldstein?"

I shot Malfoy a look, and was surprised to see that my expression was mirrored on his own as he looked across at Pansy. That was unexpected.

Antony was too busy laughing at them to come up with any response, and my brain was far too sluggish, as Pansy and Malfoy moved off, infuriatingly victorious in the petty war that seemed to perpetually wage between us.

I lost track of time somewhat after that, the reeling, dancing figures around us disorientating me slightly, and when the band finally stopped playing for the last time, and clapping rung through my eardrums, I decided I really needed some air.

"I'll be right back." I muttered to Antony, my words almost lost over the noise,

"What?" He yelled, "But the Weird Sisters will be on soon!"

To that I had no response, and I began to wind my way in between partners until I left the suffocating proximity of the dance floor, and around the tables towards the Entrance Hall. The air was cooler here, but on a whim, I head towards the doors to the grounds, the cool night air that washed over my face a welcome relief.

I stumbled outside where instead of finding the usual courtyard spanning into grass; I saw that the entire area had been done up as a rose garden; pathways spiralling away round frost covered bushes and trees.

Deciding it probably wasn't a fabulous idea to go too far ahead, I simply sank onto the steps, my feet crunching against the snow blanketing the pathway. Now out of the hall, the night seemed eerily quiet; the soft resonance of chattering and music sounding miles away.

Squinting up at the sky, I gave a deep sigh; inhaling the cold sting of the night air. Above me; between trees glittering in the moonlight from frost, the soft swirl of snowflakes floated down towards me; cold air and the feel of snow stinging against my skin. I closed my eyes; the spinning in my head lessening as the coolness of the evening enveloped me.

I jumped about a foot in the air when I reopened my eyes and discovered that I wasn't alone.

"Are you trying to get an OWL in creeping?" I shot at Draco Malfoy, mildly annoyed at the interruption.

He didn't bother with a retort, which was more or less the norm if you weren't a Gryffindor, and simply dug his hands in the pockets of his robes and stared off towards the end of the path, as if trying to pretend I wasn't there.

"Did you kill Pansy?" I tried again, my fingers playing with the ends of my dress,

"Oh, shut up, Forester."

He sat down a few metres away, apparently torn between wanting the fresh air and wanting me to go away. My head still reeling, I was sorely upset to disappoint him over not going anywhere.

"So, dress robes." I grinned, giving him a mock look-over, "You look kind of like a vicar."

He sighed heavily.

"At least I don't look like I've been dragged backwards through the Forbidden Forest, Forester."

"Ha. That's funny because of my surname."

The look he gave me was one of abject disgust. It seemed I had finally unearthed an extensive reaction. Ten points to Ravenclaw.

We fell silent again, and I decided the somewhat one-sided conversation was probably not going to renew itself, and I spent the next few seconds trying to orientate my clouded head.

"So what happened to your Beauxbaton date, Forester? Did he get sick of you that quickly?"

I looked back at Malfoy in astonishment, partly wondering how he'd even noticed I had _had_ a date, and partly disbelieving that we were talking once more.

"That's rubbish." I told him, and he looked at me quizzically, "You should have made a joke about he lasted around me longer than anyone else could manage and deserves a medal. You're not trying hard enough."

For a split second, I thought a grin might have flickered on his features, but then he simply sneered.

"I was just being moderately polite Forester."

"I must have drunk more than I thought."

"Can you go away now?"

"I was here first."

"Fine."

He got to his feet, and for some reason I felt a small swoop of disappointment, which was odd. It wasn't as if he was a particularly nice person.

Unbidden and uncontrollable, I couldn't let him go back into the Entrance Hall without one final word.

"Do I really look like I've been pulled through a forest backwards?"

Malfoy stopped walking, and turned back to look at me, his grey eyes unreadable as he stayed quiet for a moment, his expression betraying nothing.

"Yes." He finally said, his voice deadpan. Then he smirked. "See you around Forester."

He disappeared into the Entrance Hall, leaving me alone in the swirling snow and cool night air.

Although I didn't really notice, a smile was on my face.


End file.
